Page 15 of His Captive

I don’t want to answer him, fearing that he’ll laugh at me again. I already know he’ll find it amusing, and I doubt he’ll want me after he knows. A man like him requires experience, or at least a girl with some clue of what she’s doing.

“Tell me,” he speaks again, no patience left in his voice.

“None,” I admit, through a whisper, hanging my head shamefully. There, I’d said it. I’m nearly twenty years old and still a virgin.

Sadder still I haven’t even been kissed.

I’ve never taken much interest in boys. Well, not until a handsome psychopath locked me up inside his mansion and gave my pussy its own pulse anyway.

When I look up, he’s staring back at me. Shocked speechless. Possibly a little bit angry. I can’t quite work out his expression.

“You’re a…” He starts to say it, and I quickly nod.

“Yes.”

“How many men have touched you?” His anger is building, his solid chest heaving a little more rapidly.

“None,” I tell him, gripping my bottom lip between my teeth to stop myself from asking why this is so important.

“So you’re telling me that you’re completely untouched.” His knuckles turn white from gripping at the edge of the table.

“Yes,” I confirm, still wondering why he’s getting so worked up.

“Fuck,” he sighs under his breath, his eyes flicking toward the ceiling like it holds all the answers.

“Have you ever touched yourself, Lysetta?” he asks after a painfully long silence.

I shake my head. I wouldn’t have the first clue where to start.

“Jesus wept.” Pulling a hand through his hair, I notice that he loses his control just for a moment, biting down on his fist as he attempts to reign it back in.

“Ok, little one,” he speaks eventually.

“Here’s what I want you to do.” He shifts in his chair, seeming to have pulled himself back together.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he tells me.

“Stretch those pussy lips open wide, and work yourself with your finger, until you come all over my table.”

My mouth hangs open, nerves stirring in my stomach.

“I can’t.” I shake my head. “I don’t know how.”

Strangely being half naked, and what he’s asking me to do isn’t what bothers me, it’s that I suddenly want him to be the one doing the touching.

My clit is pulsing to feel pressure, and I want desperately for it to be him that gives it.

“I’ll tell you what to do,” he assures me, filling me with a false sense of security.

“You just need to be a good girl, listen, and do everything I tell you. Can you be a good girl for me?” he asks. My head bobs up and down enthusiastically, because despite everything telling me I shouldn’t, there is nothing I want more than to please him, to be a good girl just for him.

“Ok, tell me what you’re feeling.” He slouches back in his chair.

“I…My…” I’m too embarrassed to say the words.

“It’s kinda twitchy,” I tell him, watching a smirk lift on his mouth.

“You want to touch it don’t you?” His teeth graze his bottom lip.

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